good many foolish things that
a man will say when he is smitten with a tender passion, and thought the
while that he was doing a clever thing.

Mme. de Bargeton bit her lips. There was no more to be said. Mme.
d'Espard brought Mme. de Montcornet to her cousin, and Lucien became
the hero of the evening, so to speak. He was flattered, petted, and made
much of by the three women; he was entangled with art which no words can
describe. His social success in this fine and brilliant circle was
at least as great as his triumphs in journalism. Beautiful Mlle. des
Touches, so well known as "Camille Maupin," asked him to one of her
Wednesday dinners; his beauty, now so justly famous, seemed to have
made an impression upon her. Lucien exerted himself to show that his wit
equaled his good looks, and Mlle. des Touches expressed her admiration
with a playful outspokenness and a pretty fervor of friendship which
deceives those who do not know life in Paris to its depths, nor suspect
how continual enjoyment whets the appetite for novelty.

"If she should like me as much as I like her, we might abridge the
romance," said Lucien, addressing de Marsay and Rastignac.

"You both of you write romances too well to care to live them," returned
Rastignac. "Can men and women who write ever fall in love with each
other? A time is sure to come when they begin to make little cutting
remarks."

"It would not be a bad dream for you," laughed de Marsay. "The charming
young lady is thirty years old, it is true, but she has an income of
eighty thousand livres. She is adorably capricious, and her style of
beauty wears well. Coralie is a silly little fool, my dear boy, well
enough for a start, for a young spark must have a mistress; but unless
you make some great conquest in the great world, an actress will do you
harm in the long run. Now, my boy, go and cut out Conti. Here he is,
just about to sing with Camille Maupin. Poetry has taken precedence of
music ever since time began."

But when Lucien heard Mlle. des Touches' voice blending with Conti's,
his hopes fled.

"Conti sings too well," he told des Lupeaulx; and he went back to Mme.
de Bargeton, who carried him off to Mme. d'Espard in another room.

"Well, will you not interest yourself in him?" asked Mme. de Bargeton.

The Marquise spoke with an air half kindly, half insolent. "Let M.
Chardon first put himself in such a position that he will not compromise
those who take an interest in him,"